


delusional

by plushblue



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Bottom Tyler Joseph, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M, Nightmares, References to Depression, Sleep Deprivation, Top Josh Dun, Tyler is confused, brendon just wants to help, he's really trying, i guess, josh is just a sad boy that just wants peace, tyler doesn't believe anyone, why did u guys vote tyler for a bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 23:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plushblue/pseuds/plushblue
Summary: tyler doesn't quite understand why he feels the way he does and believes that he isn't getting any better, but his therapist isn't about to give up on him just yet.





	delusional

**Author's Note:**

> hello im testing out the waters. if ur uncomfy with anything in the tags then i would advise u to not read this bc i wouldnt want u to be sad and uncomfy bc that would make me feel sad ok

i think in one case. just like how you're reading this. you're just reading into my thoughts. not to worry, though. you're in my head, and therefore, are just a thought i created in my mind. my mind is all in lower case letters, words, and sentences. that's just how my mind works. i'm not calling out for help; there's no need for me to shout. if someone wants to listen to me, then they should take the effort to listen. however, i don't need anyone to listen to me. i don't need their help. i know that there's something wrong with the way i think, feel, and act, but there's no reason for anyone to actually do something about it. i don't need it. i don't mean to make anyone feel bad about themselves because of the way i am.

i lived a normal life, for the most part. i have three other siblings--two brothers and a sister, but i don't talk to them much. except for zack. zack is alright. he doesn't ask me how i'm doing, which i prefer. i had two friends named patrick and pete, who i hung out with a lot. i liked them. i still do, but i don't talk to them anymore. it was my fault. i thought i was too much for them and ended up distancing myself. they sent me a text asking if i was okay, but i never found the courage to reply. i didn't want to drag them down with me. i didn't want to drag anyone down with me.

i bet they hate me now. i bet they're talking behind my back.

"Hey, Tyler! Let's go hang out!" they said to me. i shrugged my shoulders in response and i followed, without a word. i've never really felt like i was in the moment. more like i was watching it happen. that's how i am. i let things happen even if i don't want it to happen. i managed to keep everyone away. i was no longer wanted by my friends and they gave up on me, just like how i gave up on myself.

it really was a normal life, but there's just always been something heavy in my head and in my chest. eventually, it reached my arms and legs. whatever it was, it numbed my brain and numbed my body. i felt nothing, except for a burning sadness that radiated through everyone whenever they're around me. and then, i felt guilty. guilty that i made everyone worry about me. guilty for something that was my fault, but didn't understand what i did.

when i first thought about it, it was fine. i could control it.

"Fake it 'till you make it," as my sister would say when she went to her first high school dance. i chose not to go. i was too busy watching everyone from afar. too busy worrying about how i'll just make everyone upset by feeling empty. she didn't know what she was doing, but she was excited. i couldn't possibly risk the chance of ruining the mood.

i thought i handled it pretty well, but then i just went downhill. i became upset too easily, and never found anything i liked interesting or enjoyable. i began to lose sleep because of the thoughts my head kept coming up with and bringing up. every night, i frantically count the seconds before sunrise, but sometimes i do sleep. more than usual, that is. i either sleep for twelve hours straight or only manage to catch four hours. even my eating patterns became abnormal.

i tried to keep it a secret for as long as i could, but it eventually affected much more than the way i feel. my school work, my relationships, my everything.

then my parents noticed.

"Tyler, what's wrong?" my mom asked me.

"Nothing." i reassured her. "Nothing is wrong."

"There, he says nothing is wrong. Leave it be." my dad said to my mom. "He's a man. Men don't cry."

men don't cry.

i don't know what it was, but those words just felt like a stab in the chest. how inconsiderate of him. then again, it was my fault for lying about myself. i just wanted to please everyone, but it didn't seem like it was working.

"But Zack said--"

"But Zack said what?" my dad interrupted, out of frustration. my mom looked at him in annoyance.

"Look, you know something is wrong--he's just not telling us!" my mom retorted, then turned back to me. "Tyler--"

"It's all in his head! What's so hard to understand about that!?"

they ended up arguing for a few more minutes that somehow felt like hours. maybe it really was hours, but i just refused to believe they would fight for that long.

a few weeks later, my mom signed me up for therapy sessions. it was once a week, every thursday night. she said thursdays were the best day for her to drop me off, so she can pick me up right after. sometimes she says that she's too busy and that i'll have to walk home, but i don't argue with the opportunity to be by myself.

i don't quite understand what is wrong in my head, and when i ask my mom, she refuses to tell me. my therapist, dr. brendon urie, says that i am "clinically depressed" or whatever that meant. i found no interest in searching it up, but it's clear it means i'm fucked in the brain.

speaking of my therapist, he insists i call him brendon because he wants me to see him more of a friend, rather than someone my mom hired to talk to me. i see where he's coming from, but attending these sessions make me worry if my mom will be able to keep up with paying for them, but now we're here. i've been taking these sessions for about a year, and i don't think i've been doing any better. i feel exactly the same as i did when i first realised something was wrong.

after a few sessions, i realized nothing was working. then, it got me thinking. who was i before this all happened? who would i be if i ever was fixed? what if nothing is wrong with me? what if it's just the way i am? that's it. nothing is wrong with me.

i'm sitting outside brendon's office. my mom already left because she said she had to get to a meeting, which happens a lot. she says there's meetings every thursday.

"He's getting better, I swear." i overhear brendon on the phone through the office door, open just a crack. he needs to learn to close the goddamn door sometimes. "I've got this under control."

a few minutes later, brendon opens the door and lets me inside. i sit on a heavily cushioned chair that has always made me feel a bit uncomfortable, mainly because i feel like i don't need the special treatment.

"What were you talking about on the phone?" i ask him. he sighs and sits back in his chair.

"Another therapist was thinking of taking over my sessions with you. He doesn't think I'm any good." he says.

"Oh," is all i can say. i guess i'm not surprised. that kind of sucks too. brendon is probably my only--and possibly last friend. i shouldn't find it surprising. i haven't been getting any better, so this is probably my fault for not getting any better.

"I'm not giving up on you just yet, Tyler Joseph." brendon says enthusiastically. "I've been emailing your mom for a while, and we've decided that starting next week, you'll be taking sessions everyday now."

"Why is that something to be happy about? You have more work now." i tell him. is he a workaholic? i only ever see him once a week for two hours, so there's no way i could tell. if he is, then i don't think he should give himself more work. he'll stress out too easily.

"It's no problem for me." he clicks his pen and begins to write something down. "First day of school is tomorrow for you, right? So, therapy everyday for an hour or two right after can surely fit into your schedule."

"Yeah, but you'll just be even more busy than you already are." it's pointless arguing with him. he's stubborn like that.

"Stop worrying about me. We talked about this, remember?" he sets his pen down and looks at me. "Besides, I'm not gonna be the one talking to you this time."

"What?" i thought the reason he's doing this is because he doesn't want that other therapist coming at me. "Who's gonna talk to me?"

"I have another patient. His name is Josh Dun."

"No."

"Yes." brendon smiles, and leans forward. "I want you to become friends with him, Tyler."

fuck no. i do not need to become friends with anyone. i mean, sure it's fun having brendon as a friend, but i was fine with it because my mom pays him to talk to me. it still makes me feel bad for making her pay for this, but i couldn't convince her not to. now, someone is actually asking me to become friends with someone else. let's think about this first. if i say yes, then i'll make brendon happy, but i may bring down this "josh" guy. if i say no, then i'll upset brendon, and nothing will happen to josh. this is a stupid dilemma, and may sound pathetic to anyone listening, but i'm not the best person to make or even keep friends.

brendon looks at me with pleading eyes and a sly grin. i trust that he means well, but i don't think it'll work. his expression suddenly changes.

"Have you been taking your meds?"

"I--what?"

"You haven't."

well, no shit. i hate taking them. it's hard to remember to take it for some reason. i need to take some before going to bed because i can't sleep, and i have to take some when i wake up to function properly, but when i did, it just doesn't work. that shit is evil and scary. no one believes me when i say it. they all say it'll help me. i don't believe it.

"Tyler, it's good for you. It'll help. I promise."

i don't believe it.

brendon slugs back into his chair and taps his fingers on his desk. i look across the room and check the time. there's still forty minutes left.

"Have you spoken to Patrick or Pete lately?" brendon asks.

i haven't. he should know by now, that i have not. it's no surprise. i say nothing and just shrug.

"Come on, Tyler..."

"I don't like them." i tell him.

"You're being delusional."

"I'm not. I know they're bad." i say and slug back into the chair. time is being very slow today.

"You are, Tyler. Don't jump to conclusions, like you always do." brendon sighs writes something down in his notebook.

he's right. i always do. he calls me delusional pretty often, but i always disagree with him.

i consider becoming friends with this "josh" guy again, but he might just be like pete and patrick. alright in the beginning and then suddenly hating me behind my back. that's what pete and patrick did, right? i mean, yeah, i have no proof but i can just feel that they don't like me at all, and therefore i will not like them as well.

"Tell me about Josh." i say to brendon, who stops writing mid-sentence and looks up with an excited smile. he puts his pen down and leans forward.

"What would you like to know?" he asks.

i shrug. what would i like to know. i guess i'm just a bit curious. "Why is he taking therapy?"

"He gets terrible nightmares. It may be linked with anxiety." he says. it _may be linked_? so he doesn't know for sure? why does he want me to be friends with someone he doesn't know everything about?

"I told him about you already."

my chest swells up. what? what did he say? he already gave josh some knowledge about me, so that means he must know a whole bunch of shit, right? i begin to feel my palms become sweaty and my body starts to feel cold all over. what did he tell him?

i suspect that brendon knew i started to panic when he saw the colour drain from my face. "I didn't tell him much. Just that you're very quiet."

a knock on the door interrupts us, and a man peaks through. he looks past me and straight at brendon.

"This seems like a good place to end this." brendon says.

"But there's still twenty minutes left."

"Sorry, but we'll have plenty of time to talk next week--if you agree to have joint sessions with Josh."

i look back at the man at the door, then to brendon, who are both waiting patiently. i somehow feel pressured to reply right now.

"Fine." i say, then get up from my seat.

"I'll see you next week, then." brendon smiles, then i walk out the door. the man at the door gives me a friendly smile, then walks towards brendon's desk. the door closes before i could see what happens.

i wait outside the building for my mom to pick me up. i don't bother to text or call to tell her that the session ended early because she's probably in another meeting. she says she has meetings every thursday night, after all. sometimes she calls and tells me that the meeting is running late, so i'll have to walk home.

she arrives twenty minutes later and greets me in the car. she must've been really stressed, since her clothes are a bit wrinkled, her hair is messy, and her mascara is a little smudged.

"Hey, Tyler. How was today's session?" she asks me.

"Alright. Brendon said that you and him decided to let me take joint sessions with another patient?"

"Right! You'll be going straight to therapy right after school starting next week. Is tha okay with you?"

"Yeah, I agreed to it." i say. the conversation ends. i glance at my mom for a second, then put my eyes back on the road. "You should probably try out a new lipstick."

"Why is that?" she asks.

"Because the one you're using always smudges."

she remins silent for the rest of the ride.

during the drive back home, i notice that the sky is getting darker fast. just a minute ago, the entire sky was a dome of a brght scarlet colour with fluffy clouds hovering around the orange setting sun, but now it's a blanket of a dark blue-gray. it's too cloudy to see any stars or the moon, but the city lights distract me from that.

by the time the car parks in the driveway, i step out of the car and feel a chilly breeze. summer is coming to an end, and a new school year is just around the corner. tomorrow is the first day of senior year, and i have nothing going for me. i guess meeting josh wouldn't be such a bad idea.

after all, brendon told me i was being delusional, right?


End file.
